


I'll Give You the Universe if it Means I Can Hold Your Hand

by Inthelittledoctor



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Mutual Attraction, space married nerds discover they're space married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 20:45:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6486841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inthelittledoctor/pseuds/Inthelittledoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The average human heart beats eighty times per minute. Although, Clara Oswald's heart seemed to be malfunctioning while she stood next to him, her hand in his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Give You the Universe if it Means I Can Hold Your Hand

The average human heart beats eighty times per minute. At least, it's supposed to. His human seemed to be malfunctioning, her heart beating one hundred and thirty times in just a minute. He'd noticed this as soon as her hand slipped into his, her pulse giving her away. They hadn't been doing anything that would cause her heartbeat to speed up, so what was happening to her? Perhaps an alien parasite had dug its way under her skin and was now finding its way into her heart. If that was the case, he best get that parasite out of her as quick as possible, lest he lose his small companion. Although it may be something else. Something less harmful. Maybe an emotion? She did those a lot, emotions, always creating hybrids out of them without even knowing it. So he observes her features, taking in all he can, every little thing being taken note of. Semi-head tilt, lips curved upwards, a sad, yet hopeful look in her eyes. He'd seen this one before, more than once actually. He still has no clue what it is. Best assume the worst in these kinds of situations. 

Start with a simple question, one that leaves room for possibilities. 'Are you okay?' 

Such a simple question with such a complex nature and so many possible answers. A yes or no, perhaps. Maybe a more elaborate answer, more in depth, explanatory even. She shifts closer to him, skirt just grazing the console, and her smile fades, hardly there at all when she answers,'Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?'

That was his Clara, always answering questions with another question. Her pulse hadn't increased any further, which meant one of two things. Either she wasn't lying, or the parasite had full control of her heart. Hopefully it was the first thing, Heaven forbid it be the latter. He waits a full minute before responding, counting each beat and noticing that her heart rate was staying the same. She sounded far too confident for anything to be bothering her. Although, she tended to do that, fake bravery and confidence when something was bothering her. 

A quick glance to her is all he needs to be able to identify her new expression. It's one he knows all too well. Lips pressed together, brow furrowed, curiosity playing at her eyes. She's waiting, wanting to know his answer. 'Your heart rate is faster than usual,' he replies, forcing himself not to look at her, not wanting her to know that he actually cares as much as he does.

Another glance her way. Undistinguishable. No clear signs to what exactly she's thinking at this moment and he feels as though he may have said something wrong. He shoves his free hand into his coat pocket and retrieves a stack of notecards. She'd given them to him not too long ago, an attempt at better helping him interact with others. He still remembers what she'd said when she gave them to him. 

_I know you're not very good with words, so I made these to help you._

He'd mumbled a 'thank you, Miss Oswald', and not much else, pretending like he didn't care even though he was eternally grateful. He studied the cards when she wasn't around, looking forward to impressing her in the future (or maybe past) when he recited one of her cards. He never had gotten to chance to do so. 

His hand leaves hers and he begins sifting through the notecards, finding the one he was looking for only a few cards in. 'I'm sorry if I offended you by saying something weird slash creepy slash unappreciated,' he reads. 

Her sigh of what he can only assume is disappointment causes his hearts to twinge. Had he just made it worse? She reaches for his notecards and takes them from him, placing them on the console out of his reach. Once again her hand finds his, this time her small hand squeezing his larger one. His hand envelopes hers, yet their hands seem made for each other. Strange. He'd have to do research on how exactly that was possible later. Did it have something to do with opposites attracting? Were hands like magnets? Her arm is bumping into his and his thoughts are suddenly being cut off. Too much Clara contact. Not enough room to think. 

'You're an idiot, y'know that?' She asks, a smile playing at her lips as he looks over at her. 

'Doctor idiot,' he reminds. 

She smiles. Her heart rate's gone up again. Why does it keep doing that? Is her heart malfunctioning? Has the malfunction from her face moved to her heart? He uses his free hand to flip a few switches on the console, getting the TARDIS to run scans for alien life forms nesting inside of the woman next to him. Just to be safe. 

Her head rests on his shoulder, other hand coming to rest on his upper arm, fingers wrapping around it gently. He presses his lips together, trying to ignore the warm feeling in the pit of his stomach that he usually experiences in moments of closeness with her. He tries his best not to look at her, scared of what he would see if he did. Sadness. Emptiness. Regret. The possibles were endless. 

'Where're we off to, Doctor idiot?' She teases. He can hear the smile in her voice, and that's all the encouragement he needs to finally look over at her, seeing a spark in her eye and a smile on her lips. He knows this look, this is good. She's content, happy to be where she is, even a little bit excited. This look is burned into his memory, how could he ever forget it? He loved this look. It meant he was doing something right.

'Nowhere, Miss Oswald. I think we've done enough adventuring for one day,' he smiles, or at least, he tries to. 

'So I get to spend some quality time with you,' she grins,'Sounds fun.' She leans up, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his lips, causing his cheeks to flush.

Well, this was going to be fun. The monitor in front of them lights up, and him, knowing exactly what is on it, pushes it aside quickly, not allowing her to see it. He looks at her. Brows pushed together, head tilted, and a frown on her lips. Skeptical. Her hand leaves his upper arm, reaching for the monitor and he doesn't quite have the time to think about how bad of a decision he's about to make. He grabs her wandering hand, pushing it down onto the console and hastily letting go of both of her hands. He bolts to the monitor, pulling it to the other side of the console so he can read the results of her scan without her in his personal space. No Clara contact meant a clear mind, which was something he appreciated from time to time. Apparently him having a clear mind wasn't something she appreciated because she is at his side again in a matter of seconds, eyes sweeping over the screen and he knows it's too late. She's read it. She knows what he was doing, knows that he cares more than he lets on. Eyes roaming over to her, he expects to see disgust (pursed lips, scrunched nose), but instead sees something he doesn't recognise. Lips turned up in a smirk, chin lowered, eyes a little less wide than usual. What was that look? He'd have to write it down so he could identify what it meant later. 

He waits for her to say something, the silence ringing out through the room killing him. Words aren't his strongpoint. Anything but his strongpoint in this body, really, she should really know this by now. She has to be the first one to speak. Yet instead, she just stares at the monitor, amused. Amusement! That was it. That was that look. Best add it to the Clara journal for later reference when he gets the time. 

Speaking of Clara, he still hadn't fully read the results on the monitor regarding her elevated heartbeat. Focusing back on the monitor, he reads the text on the screen. 

_Elevated heart beat due to physical attraction to another life form. Human heart beats increase because of this reason due to the fact that humans experience a strong sense of excitement while around those they find attractive. If physical contact is initiated, this excitement commonly grows, causing the heart rate to increase once again._

Attraction to another life form? The only life forms around other than Clara were him and his sentient ship. Could someone even be attracted to a sentient ship? If so, how did that come about? Sure, he found his TARDIS attractive, but that was normal for him. For her, he wasn't quite so sure. Ask questions now, contemplate life later in the safety of his own room.

'Are you attracted to the TARDIS?' 

If his goal had been to wipe all signs of amusement clearly off her face, then he surely would have succeeded. Sadly, that was not his goal. Though, it was interesting seeing how quickly her expressions could change. One moment amusement, the next moment shock (wide eyes and parted lips). 

'What makes you think I'm attracted to your snog box?' She asks rather incredulously. 

His eyes dart from the screen to her a couple times, his mouth not willing to form the words he wants to say. Her eyes squeeze shut and she bows her head, a sigh leaving her still parted lips. 

'I never imagined that one man could be so daft,' she informs, her head rising, eyes now opened and piercing into his soul. He raises his eyebrow, still not getting her point. She was telling him he was right, wasn't she? She was attracted to his time traveling machine. He could feel his hearts being ripped apart in his chest, yet as he looked down, he saw no hands reaching into his chest to do so. What was this feeling? Why did it hurt so much? His gaze flickers to her, seeing a frown on her lips. No, no frowning, that wasn't allowed, Clara Oswald was supposed to always be happy. Had his duty of care really collapsed so easily? 

He strides forward, hands cupping her cheeks and getting her to look up at him. 'Hey,' he murmurs, words soft,'it's okay, no frowning, Clara Oswald.'

'You really don't get it do you?' She asks, the malfunction he was yet to understand tainting her lips. It was a smile, but it was sad. How was that even possible? Smiles were meant to be happy, and somehow she managed to make them anything but that on certain occasions. 

'I'm not attracted to the TARDIS, You idiot,' she whispers, her eyes making contact with his, a pleading look in them, as if asking him to understand something. The penny drops and his eyebrows drop, hands falling from her face. She was attracted to him. That was the only other possible option if she wasn't attracted to the TARDIS. Wordlessly, he gestures towards himself, an eyebrow raising in question. 

'Yes, you daft old man. I thought you knew by now,' a smile tugs at her lips, a happy one this time, which makes him feel a sudden swelling in his chest. Damn her and her emotions, she was going to be the death of him someday. He reaches out and envelopes her hand in his, trying to contain the grin threatening to break out on his lips. 

She was attracted to him. He finally knew that she returned his attraction and it felt like his hearts were going to burst out of his chest. Maybe she didn't feel the same as him, but being attracted to him was at least a step in the right direction. At least he hoped it was. What if she was only attracted to how he looked? Although, how could she possibly be attracted to what he looked like? He was old now, his hair grey peppered with spots of black, wrinkles invading his skin. She couldn't find that attractive, not even in the slightest. Though his personality wasn't much better. Even though he was beyond confused, he felt relieved. Relieved there wasn't an alien parasite using her as a home, relieved that she wasn't attracted to the TARDIS. 

Her previous admittance and his thoughts set aside, he tugs at her hand and gives her a smile. She smiles back at him, her eyes glistening. She seems to shine brighter than any star he's ever seen. He thinks that she's never looked as kissable as she does at this very moment. He wants to kiss her, really does, and he knows she'll have no problem with it, it's just, the console room was certainly not the proper place to kiss her. So he leads her down the stairs leading to the corridors, giving her a quick look as they get to the bottom of them, an internal debate going on. What's her favourite place in this ship? Her room? The library? Potentially the swimming pool? He has a recreation of one of the old Coal Hill classrooms sitting around somewhere, perhaps she would like that. Or maybe, just maybe-oh yes! That would definitely work! He pulls her through corridor after corridor finally stopping when they get to a solid white door, pushing it open and dropping her hand, gesturing for her to go in. She does so and he follows on her heel, intently watching her take in her surroundings. A pure white room with no end in sight. Not that impressive at first look, but there was something special about that room. It could generate any place in the universe. Any room, any city, any planet, all at their fingertips. 

'What is this room?' She asks. 

Always so curious, his Clara. He steps up to her side, a subtle smile on his lips as he explains,'It's a scene generating room. Imagine any place in the universe and this room will recreate it.' He knew she didn't want to hear the science behind it. Too long of an explanation. He wasn't even quite sure how it worked himself, but he would happily make up some fake science behind it. 

'So just close my eyes and imagine, yeah?' 

He nods. Her eyes close and he watches her, thoughts of just a few minutes ago swirling around in his head. When he sees her eyes open, he hastily looks away from her, taking in the setting around them. It was a beach he took her to once when he thought he would lose her. She was getting so attached to her life on Earth that he thought she was getting tired of the rest of the universe and just wanted to stay domestic, carry on with her life of teaching and being oh so human. No more Doctor. No more adventures. Yet on that beach, she'd proved him wrong, told him that she loved travelling with him and wouldn't give it up for anything. They'd held each other in the sand, both contently staring at the moon of that planet, talking about nothing and everything. 

He looks at the water, it still glistening the way he remembers it, reflecting the sky of the planet in the daytime even though it was nighttime. The sand looks so inviting, the thought of holding her in the sand even more inviting. He isn't quite sure when her hand came to be in his, but now she's pulling him to the spot they had laid in last time, sitting down and pulling him with her. Why did she imagine this place? Sure, it was nice and he enjoyed his memories with her here, but it certainly was nothing noteworthy to her, he imagined. 

'Why here?' He questions, looking down at her at his side. 

'It's my favourite memory with you. Why take me to this room?'

He needs a moment to think about his response to her question. Was there really any reason he brought her here? He wanted to kiss her, that was one of the reasons, but he could've easily done that anywhere, it's just the console room didn't feel appropriate. 'I'm not quite sure. I wanted to kiss you and I guess my brain malfunctioned,' he admits. 

She laughs and his hearts clench. How did such a simple noise make him feel so much? 'We've kissed each other before, you idiot. I'd be fine with you doing it again,' she says, her voice still hinted with laughter. 

Had they kissed before? He knows they'd kissed on the cheek and other numerous places, but not on the place he wanted to kiss her now. He wanted to actually kiss her, on the lips, and she didn't seem to understand. He looks at the water in front of them, calm, not even a ripple interrupting it. He wonders what his mind would look like as a body of water. Lips grace his cheek and he tries to imagine what it would feel like if they were on his lips. What would she taste like? What would it be like to smell her so close to him? The smell of her was already intoxicating enough from right next to him. He looks over at her. Would she be okay with him kissing her? He knew now at least that she was attracted to him, so what was the harm in trying it?

Chin up, eyes focused on him, her face a perfect picture of serenity. She was serene, much like the water in front of them. May as well see what happens if he kisses her. The worst she can do it slap him. He leans down, almost experimentally, waiting to see if she'll push him away. To his surprise, she doesn't, simply just sits there, watching him. Deep breath in. He can do this. Confidence is key. Or is it? Could be bravery. Or even stupidity. Perhaps anything that wasn't the panic he was currently experiencing. His nose grazes hers, her smell filling his lungs-tea, old books, and perfume. He tilts his head, closing the gap between their lips and letting out the breath he'd been holding when her lips immediately move against his. Her hand rests on his cheek and he tries to focus on only one thing even though he was a tad bit overwhelmed. Her lips were so soft, her smell far beyond intoxicating this close, mixing in his mouth with the taste of her, mint and that fruit she had wanted to try on their last adventure. She opens her mouth up to him, her teeth playfully scraping against his bottom lip. Something inside of him short circuits and his lips stop moving, causing hers to stop moving shortly after, lips leaving his. A breath of a laugh leaves her, her breath warm against his lips. 

Her head falls to his shoulder, her frame shaking with unheard laughter. Deciding to take a risk, he wraps an arm around her and pulls her closer, looking down at her with a content smile on his lips. He looks out at the water, feeling her body slowly stop shaking next to him. She nuzzles into his shoulder, arms wrapping around him, a happy hum vibrating against his shoulder. What did he do to deserve her? Nothing, really. Perhaps it was just the universe's way of paying him back for saving so many planets and civilisations. Not that he felt like he needed to be rewarded for that, it was reward enough seeing her smile after they'd done something good. He feels her lips gently kiss the crook of his neck, causing the smile playing at his lips to widen. 

Maybe he didn't deserve Clara Oswald, but he sure as hell wasn't giving her up anytime soon. And he was almost positive that she wasn't giving him up anytime soon either.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos if you enjoyed and comments are always appreciated.


End file.
